My Soul
by vincent-taco
Summary: AU. It takes place in Barret's old age. It seems he keeps getting visits from a wayward vampire looking for something. Can the old man help him?


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HELLO! Well I got bored and I got this crazy bit in my head while working on my painting of j-rock star HYDE... and then I typed it up in like ten minutes... funny... It seems like I could take this somewhere, let me know if I should.

NOW READ AND REVIEW!!! (READ FIRST OF COURSE!)

**My Soul.**

"Will I be haunted by you forever then?"

"That all depends Barret, you have a light?" Barret tossed a gold toned flip lighter to the white man before him.

"I didn't know vampires could smoke."

"Well, yeah, it's too bad we can't summon fire as well as these little bitches. Oh well, tough shit." The vampire flipped the lighter shut and took a puff on the cigarette, savoring the flavor and then exhaling, blowing smoke through his nostrils like a bull. The man his stare nonchalantly laid toward was an ageing black man with thin curly white hair, wrinkled brown eyes and a metallic hued mechanical arm. "I always liked cigars better. You get more out of them." The black man just nodded his head and sighed a little, shifting his weight on and off his wooden cane and accepting the lighter back with a irritated glance.

"Umm, well look, just because you don't get cold easily doesn't mean that I'm not already. What do you want from me? Just let me go inside, I'm of no use to you if I'm dead from pneumonia." he gestured with the cane to the front door of his apartment. The vampire, with hip length dusty grey hair and pale watery green eyes, took one long puff, taking the remainder of the cigarette and exhaled shaking his head and blowing smoke into the old man's folded face.

"Nope, sorry Barret, I'm afraid I can't do that. You see, if I were to do that, you'd shut your door on me and never come out of it again. I need to talk to you." To show his point, the vampire crossed his long arms over his chest and leaned back against the door, his face nor hands showing any sign of the cold. The old man was flustered and grew impatient.

"Fine, would you like to come inside then?" The vamp nodded and casually held open the door for the black man, stepping on the smoldering cigarette butt with his shoe and rubbing it into the snow. The old man walked through the door way and shed his coat and shoes, slipping into suede house shoes as he did so and walked into the living area. The vampire followed him, slipping his shoes off as well. He eyed the many weapons that sat displayed in their glass cases. Barret turned to watch him warily, then gave up his glare of suspicion.

"Good, I was afraid I was going to have to tell you to remove them myself. It's nice to see someone, even you, with at least some respect in this god forsaken world." The old man huffed as he slowly lowered his aching body into the old recliner across the room in front of the TV. On the mantle place sat countless pictures in random dollar store frames, all the glory years with his comrades in their youth. The vampire cast a glance at them distastefully as he sat himself down on the couch almost adjacent to the recliner against the creamy green colored walls.

"So, what brings you to my doorstep? What do I have that the great Sephiroth would want, after he has been granted immortality? That was what you were looking for Jenova wasn't it?" The old man sounded weary as he folded his creased hands on top of his lap, his body already sunken into the fraying cushions of the chair. The vampire though for a moment then looked the man in the eye. The old man agitated him immensely when he would criticize him about his immortality. He answered shortly.

"My soul." The old man sighed heavily at this, but none the less, he replied.

"Child, your soul is something between you and the lifestream. You should have taken better care of it to begin with. I don't have it, nor the power to gain it. You bother me with such things, why don't you go bother Valentine."

"Are you not the man? Are you not the one who made 'Valentine' a human again after his life of seventy years as a vampire? Are you not the–

"Shinra, that's enough. No, I am not that man anymore and I have not a clue as to what you are talking about! The lifestream, that is where your soul is."

"You are the man who–

"Yes, I am a man! A humble servant of this planet! I do not go about bringing dead beings to life! Nor would I want to bring you back! You gave us enough hell when you were alive. If you could have your soul back, I fear we'd all be doomed permanently." Barret started to cough, his lungs rattling as he did so. He stopped and spoke once again.

"I am an old man now and cannot perform such miracles. You have wasted your time coming here and bothering me. I an old man who needs his sleep. I cannot help you. I am sorry so good bye." and before the vampire could open his mouth, his pale vermillion orbs glowing in rage, he added, "I retract your invitation into my home, be gone nameless child of rumors and misconceptions." With that, the Sephiroth was forced out of the room, walking backwards almost, stopping only long enough for his shoes to slip onto his feet.

But Barret never saw this, he lay in his chair fast asleep almost as soon as the last word left his lips. He was going to be damned if he let some crazed vampire keep him from his evening's sleep, even if it was one of the world's once greatest generals.


End file.
